The Girl In The Woods Part 24

Her mom sat up, her eyes wild. She pulled her hand free and placed it on Diana's shoulder.

"You have to go there. You have to find her. She's drying up there and blowing away in the wind. You have to go. It has to be you."

"Mom? What do you mean?"

"Go. Go. Go!"

She slumped back against the bed, her eyes closed. Just as quickly as she had sat up and spoken, she was gone again, slipped away.

"Mom?" Diana took her hand again. "Mom? What did you mean when you said that?"

Diana waited, but nothing else came.

Then someone touched Diana on the back. She jumped and spun around, dropping her mom's hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Jesus."

It was Deborah. Jangly, braceleted Deborah. Diana hadn't heard her approach.

"I didn't mean to startle you. It's okay."

Diana tried to regulate her breathing and calm down. It took a moment for her heart to stop accelerating. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to tell you that sometimes they say things that really don't mean anything. It's just nonsense. It comes from someplace deep inside of them, or it comes from the medication. It doesn't mean anything."

"How do you know it doesn't?"

"I guess I don't for sure." Deborah came over to the bed and placed her hand on her mom's forehead, checking her temperature. "These things they say could mean something to someone if we wanted them to."

Diana stood up from the bed and took a deep breath. Her legs felt like they were filled with jelly, and she wanted to get out of the confining hospital room and back to town. Visiting her mother at a time like that had been a mistake. She went out into the hallway and heard her cell phone ring in her purse. Dan's name and number appeared on the caller ID display. He was at work.

"What happened?" she said.

"We're back."

He sounded defeated, and Diana sensed something had gone wrong.

"What happened?" she said again.

"We found Jason's truck."

The weakness in her legs spread throughout her body. She thought she might fall to the ground.

"Where?"

"Out in the county, on the way to Lambeau."

"Was he with it?"

"No. It was abandoned. No sign of trouble, just the truck on an empty stretch of road. We looked all over out there, all around the woods where the truck was. Nothing yet, but we'll go back tomorrow."

"No. There had to be something there."

"There wasn't."

Diana moved down the hall to an isolated spot far from her mother's room. She stood in front of a tall cas.e.m.e.nt window covered on the outside by heavy, wrought iron bars that allowed only split and refracted sunlight through the gla.s.s.

"Did you talk to anybody who saw anything?" Diana said.

Dan paused. "I shouldn't be telling you this."

"What?"

"We got a tip about a house out there. I got the tip actually. The house belongs to a guy named Roger Donahue. He's harmless, practically r.e.t.a.r.ded. We talked to him and searched the house. We didn't find anything."

"What did the place look like?"

"What do you mean? It's a house and a yard and a lot of trees and woods that went on and on. But he lives several miles from where the truck was found, and he didn't know anything."

Diana stopped listening when Dan said "woods that went on and on." Those words tingled her spine. She closed her eyes and leaned against the grimy window for support.

"What did the woods look like?"

"Diana, I don't know where you're going with this. They looked like woods. We went into them and looked around and didn't find anything."

"Was there a clearing? A place in the woods where no trees or gra.s.s grew? An open s.p.a.ce-"

"I'm sure there was. And there were birds and squirrels and rocks, too. The only strange thing was how neat this guy's house looked. For a half-r.e.t.a.r.ded bachelor he keeps his house pretty d.a.m.n clean."

"How did he seem?"

"Nervous. As nervous as you would be if a swarm of cops came into your house. We checked him, Diana. No record. Not even a traffic ticket. I'm not sure he could steal a pack of gum from a convenience store. It's not him. We had bad information, I guess."

"It might not be him. It might be something else. The place. It might be working through him."

"Where are you, Diana?"

"I stopped to see my mom."

Diana heard a whine of static in the phone line and voices in the background on Dan's end. "I'm sorry there isn't better news about McMichael. I'm still holding out hope there's a reasonable explanation. I don't know what else to think."

"Dan?"

"I have to go, Diana. Jason's story is going to hit the news. I'm sorry."

He cut the connection. Diana flipped her phone closed.

She looked up the hallway and saw Deborah emerge from her mother's room and wave.

"She's fine now," Deborah said. "Perfectly fine. You can say good-bye now if you'd like."

Diana didn't move or respond right away.

"Are you okay?" Deborah said.

"Fine," Diana said. "I just got some bad news about a friend."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Diana walked toward the room. "I guess I'll say good-bye."

Diana wasn't sure if she'd ever see her mother again. She wanted to make sure nothing was left unsaid.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

Nate Ludwig was in his office. A stack of student papers stood imposingly on his desk, begging for his attention by its very height. They should have been returned the week before, but he had given his time over to wandering country roads and isolated stretches of woods, searching for The Pioneer Club. Now that he believed he had found the spot, it stood to reason he would find time to catch up on all the neglected work that had piled up on his desk. Not so. Ever since his visit to Captain Berding's office-and its unsuccessful conclusion-Ludwig had found himself more distracted than before. A roiling impatience had taken over his body and mind, so much so that he found any task from his daily life-taking out the garbage, doing laundry, preparing lectures-to be a huge impediment to his real work and calling: the investigation into The Pioneer Club.

The radio played in the office, as always. Cla.s.sical music from the campus public station, pointless noise that didn't even register in his brain. But at the top and bottom of each hour as news time approached, his ears perked and honed in on the voice on the radio like a divining rod for water. He thirsted for that news. He needed it.

A student knocked on the door. Ludwig looked up. He had forgotten he was holding office hours at that time, and the student's appearance seemed momentarily out of context and surprising, like having a long-lost relative show up unexpectedly on the doorstep.

"Dr. Ludwig?"

He didn't recognize the student. He didn't really recognize any of his students these days. This young man looked like all the rest of them. Ball cap. Baggy shorts and sandals despite the cool weather.

"Yes?"

"I'm in your Introduction to Folklore cla.s.s? The one at ten o'clock?"

Ludwig hated this generation's habit of making everything sound like a question, even statements of fact. No wonder they were always so confused.

"I don't have the papers graded yet. Next week. I've been busy."

"That's cool. I'm not here about that."

"Oh?"

"I wanted to tell you about something. You know how we were talking about all those missing persons cases? And you know how that girl disappeared?"

Ludwig's interest rose exponentially. "Yes, yes."

"Well, my roommate's a cop here in New Cambridge. You know, he's a student and he's a cop. I think he's majoring in criminal justice or something."

"I understand. What's your point?"

"He told me last night that they're searching an area out in the country today. Apparently they think someone out there might know something, so they're going out to check it over."

"Are you kidding? Are you messing with me?"

"No, sir. I thought you'd like to know. I mean, he's not supposed to tell me stuff like that, and I'm not supposed to tell you, but I thought you'd like to know."

"Yes, of course. Thank you." The kid turned to leave, but Ludwig stopped him. "Who are you?"

"Josh Dillon, sir. Junior. Communications major. I sit kind of in the back-"

"That's great, Mr. Dillon. I'll remember. h.e.l.l, I'll give you extra credit for this if you'd like."

"Oh, no. That's not necessary. Not really anyway. I just wanted to-"

"Thanks for coming by. Next week on the papers, okay?"

As politely as he could, Ludwig shoved the student out of the office and closed the door behind him.

The minutes to the top of the hour ticked away like a slow death. Ludwig stared at the radio, silently urging the broadcast onward, cursing the cla.s.sical music that began to sound like a fork sc.r.a.ped across a blackboard.

He looked around for something to distract his attention from the minutes crawling by, but finding nothing, sat back in his chair and waited. Finally, the news came on, and he leaned forward and turned the volume up as high as it would go.

This is it, he thought.

The broadcaster started speaking.

"New Cambridge Police and officers from several jurisdictions, acting on a tip today, executed a search warrant at a private residence in rural Union Towns.h.i.+p. The authorities believed that evidence relating to the Jacqueline Foley disappearance might be found in the home. But after an extensive search of the grounds and questioning of the home's residents, the police determined that no evidence relating to the investigation into the missing Fields' student was found there. While disappointed at the dead end, Captain Dan Berding expressed optimism that the case would be resolved and soon.

"And sources inside the police department are reporting a vehicle that may belong to a missing New Cambridge police officer has been found on a rural road..."

"No, no," Ludwig said. "No. Didn't you find the grave? Didn't you stupid, f.u.c.king idiots find the grave in the woods?"

He yanked the plug from the wall and picked up the radio. He was about to throw it against the wall when he regained control of himself.

"Gah!"

He put the radio back down and took several deep breaths. He remembered his own father's temper, and the way the old man went face down into his mashed potatoes one night, dead of a heart attack at age fifty. Ludwig was a scholar, an educated man. He could solve his problems in a better way.

He straightened his tie and grabbed his coat. He had to go talk to that captain again.